~ Goodbye Summer

There are moments when the sun is high

and the colors are vibrant

and everything is alive with promise.

There are days when the water invites you to linger,

the kids occupy themselves for hours,

and getting a good night's sleep doesn't seem quite so urgent.

There are moments when you stumble upon little treasures

and moments for tasting the sweetness of the season

and moments when the landscapes take your breath away.

And then comes that inevitable moment when we have to say goodbye to summer so we can say hello to autumn and all the wonderful things it has in store for us.

(I wrote this post back in August. I'm a little late saying goodbye to summer. We just got back from the beach in South Carolina. Now, it's official. Summer's over. I'm welcoming Fall with open arms!)

~ When Your Work Is More Than Just a Job

When you love what you do...
And you love the people you do it with...


When they are more than just co-workers...

When they are your family...

You are a blessed man.

Photos are from our annual staff picnic and Beth's lovely yard (and yummy food).

Between a Rock and Park Place

I heard the question and my heart sank.

"Mom, can we play Mononpoly?"

"Sure." (They have to ask because it takes forever and consumes our dinner table.)

And then he asked in his sweetest, softest voice, "Will you play, too?"

As soon as it was out of his mouth, the other little voices chimed in with their cheers and pleas and it wasn't quiet and sweet and soft anymore.

Some of you when faced with a question like that may get all giddy and excited at the prospect of spending the afternoon with your children teaching them about money matters and math and life. And there are others who love the challenge and the charge of buying properites, charging rent and making people go bankrupt.

Me? I hear the words, "Will you play monopoly with us?" But what registers in my brain is something like, "Will you forget about the laundry and the dishes and the dust and the dirty bathrooms and spend an entire day sitting in a hard chair making sure a two-year-old doesn't wreck the game or swallow something he's not supposed to while trying to figure out this newer version where we use million dollar bills instead of hundreds. " Not the greatest response, I know. What can I say? I'm not a game player.

But in the brief moment when the chattering little voices calmed to wait for my answer, I heard another voice call to me. This voice reeled off all the reasons it was a really a good idea. "Someday they won't want you to play their games. The dirt and dishes will always be here. Is there really anything more important. It's a chance to make a memory. You've said no enough. Say yes for a change."

So after the voices battled in my head and I had made an argument for a quick game of yahtzee instead (and lost), I gave in. The dirt and dishes waited, and we made a memory. I love my boys. They really are a fun bunch, but I am worried about my oldest one's lust for money and power!